


A Week in The Harbor

by frechi123, Hamino (frechi123)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Broken John, Disabled Eliza, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, People Will Die, She can't walk, The others make very minor appearances or are only mentioned, They destroyed him bad, Thomas and James are in the side, mentions of a shooting, mute Alexander
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-06-29 12:57:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15729858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frechi123/pseuds/frechi123, https://archiveofourown.org/users/frechi123/pseuds/Hamino
Summary: Alexander's recklessness with jabs eventually fling him into a wordless abyss. His foster brother, Lafayette, can't stand to see him eyeing knives like he does since his incident with Charles Lee that cost him his voice.John's family keeps his away from ropes, because they're worried that he will try to use them on himself the way he almost did on his younger sister Martha because he'd had enough of her endless torment after long years.Eliza's insecurities have haunted her since she was only three and lost all feeling in her legs. She tried to drown herself in the family pool before Angelica stopped her. She's now sick of people, and can only confide in her diary.They all each have a secret that no one else knows, and believe they will soon take it to their graves. That is, until one fateful decision brings them all together and gives them reason to not give up after all.or, Alexander is mute, John is broken, Eliza is disabled, and their families send them to rehab to get better. Along the way, they fall in love.





	A Week in The Harbor

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me in advance, I don't know where this came from, and I don't poke fun at anyone who may be in this situation.
> 
> First Elams, first real angst fic.
> 
> There will be fluff, I don't do smut, sorry.
> 
> Signing is single quote, talking is double.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander's admittance to the psych ward.

   Alexander sat hunched over at his desk, unmoving. His pen sat long discarded, injected into the wall where he'd thrown it after another failed attempt to pen his words to the paper. In the hall, Lafayette, foster brother to the much scrappier immigrant, observed him sadly from behind the door. He wouldn't sleep. He barely ate. He hardly acknowledged him or their foster father, George, at all.

   It had been happening increasingly lately, ever since...  _that day_.

   The day that Charles Lee had slit his vocal chords.

   Lafayette felt his hands curling into fists at the thought alone. Sure, Alexander was sometimes known for being extremely blunt with his words, but caring inflections used to flow from there many a time. The boy was passionate on a number of things negatively and positively alike, and when writing wasn't enough ( _it was never enough for him, Laf thought_ ) he took it to the spoken word.

   Now, this wasn't the first time he'd faced Charles Lee when he was super pissed. He had come to America when he was only 10; his mother did not survive the voyage. Laf had come when he himself was 11, around the same time, and had been waiting for George when he saw Alexander being pushed around by Charles Lee. Back then, he also relied on physical violence in addition to his words, to give them that extra punch (no pun intended).

   Alexander may have been drowned at the harbor if Lafayette hadn't dragged a bruised Charles Lee away from him. Even though Alex had been annoyed at first by Laf fighting his battle, he did admit that he had appreciated it later on.

   He was 19 now. And his mouth was once again getting him into trouble. Laf was minding his own business, strolling along the harbor with Angelica, who he had taken an immediate liking to when his foster family moved a few blocks from hers, when they saw the two. They hid behind the wood poles and watched them.

    _"How on earth did you get chosen over me?!" the Nevisian had shouted at Lee that day. "I respect Washington and all, but I don't really_ _know what he was thinking. You're too evasive! You nearly shit the ground at Monmouth Park at the little horror movie marathon last week!"_

_"Oh boo hoo, your daddy didn't give you what you wanted for once, like I care!" Lee's face had turned bright red from anger. "You should take Burr's advice, and talk less!"_

_He narrowed his eyes. "That's only going to happen when pigs fly. Or when your dad finally stops abusing you. So, not likely." A shocked face from Lee and Laf and Angie knew he'd hit a sensitive spot but had no idea why he knew about it._

_"Shut up!" Lee hissed, reaching for his pocket._

_"Why don't you make me?" Alexander replied snarkily, running with his hands stuck out to push him._

_And that's when the two spectators saw the glint of a knife in Charles's hand. If they didn't do something fast, there would be another tragedy within their neighborhood. Angelica couldn't bring herself to talk about what happened to Peggy or little Corlandt, and what was happening to Eliza now... but she didn't wish to see another death so soon._

_"WAIT!" the two cried out in unison. Alexander turned to face the voices, and Charles was so startled that he missed his initial target of aiming for Alexander's leg, settling for slicing right across his throat instead._

_For a moment, it was all silent. Time seemed to slow down. Charles dropped the knife. Alexander dropped his knees clutching his throat. And Lafayette and Angelica dropped all sense of slowness and bolted over to where the two of them were. Angelica screamed the life out of her voice at Charles, asking him how he would live with the guilt of taking a human life.... he insisted he was going to do no such thing... all the while Lafayette placed a hand on the young immigrant's shoulder, as in silently asking... begging him to say something._

_Alexander looked up, blood staining behind his hands. He opened his mouth to speak... and his face froze in a silent scream._

_Charles turn_ e _d away, looking sick. Laf and Angelica both broke down, screaming into the air. Nothing was ever going to be the same again._

    The thought was enough to make Laf turn away from the door and try and make something for Alexander to actually eat. He never touched the knives anymore. They made him too scared. Moments later, George came into the room and saw his oldest son standing solemly as he stared into the mixing pot. He rested a hand on Laf's shoulder. The Frenchman didn't even flinch anymore.

    "I am worried about him." Laf's voice came out rough and scratchy. He couldn't remember the last time he used his voice on a regular basis. He only ever talked to Angelica anymore; twice a month, because no one else had any idea why he felt the way he did, they believed him to be overreacting and he pushed them all away. "He will still refuse to eat much."

    "I know," George said. "Martha used to do this to herself too."

    Laf knew Martha used to suffer her own personal demons when she was still around. He and George were worried the same fate would befall Alexander that had Martha if they didn't do something about it.

   "He is not going to fix this on his own, is he?" Laf finally turned around to see George standing in the kitchen entryway with his back to him. He saw George shake his head and fixed him with a worried look. The silence stretched on until Laf turned back to the fruit salad he was making. The pieces were all weird because he'd tried to use his nails. He was too terrified to even go get scissors.

    Laf actually jumped a bit when George's voice came in from behind him, closer than earlier: "I know Alexander won't forgive us for this, but I can't see any other options for him." Shocked, he turned to face his foster father, who had fixed a determined bleak look on him. "We have to send him to the Harbor."

***

    Alexander struggled against the ropes that tied him to his chair as he, Laf, and George drove off towards the Harbor, the one rehab center that was guaranteed to either cure you or ruin you for good. There was no in-between. Alex knew he was a mess, sure, but he didn't think they'd actually send him off. He wanted to dig his nails into his skin so badly and hope it was all a terrible nightmare, but no such luck.

    'You didn't send Martha here,' he pointed out bitterly, in sign language. Despite apparently have retained a tiny sliver on his voice, he wouldn't speak because he was now technically mute. He signed as fast as he used to speak. He knew he'd probably hit a sensitive topic, but at the moment, he didn't care. 'Why do I have to go then?'

     "That's exactly why we're sending you," George replied without turning around. Alex could hear some of the edge hidden in his voice although he's managed to keep most of it out. "Martha _wasn't_  here, and you see what happened to her." Alex stiffened when he heard George suddenly let more anger into his voice. "So unless you want the exact same thing to happen to  _yo_ _u_ \- and I don't know about you, but Laf and I would certainly not forgive ourselves if we let this slide - you need to give this a try. It's clear that you're not willing to try and do anything to pick yourself out of your abyss-like cespool yourself, so it calls for drastic measures."

    Alex didn't sign anything else after, just glared beams at the dusty car floor while Laf looked on nervously and anxiously.

***

    He stayed despondent as George talked to the owner, Crystal, about admitting him. He swatted away all of Laf's attempts to assuage him, not caring particularly if he was hurting him or not. He let himself be dragged in by Crystal and her nephew Bryan, not even sparing George or Laf a final glance before they were separated by closed doors. As they made their way through the halls toward his room, his despondency began to drop. He tapped on Crystal and she turned to affix him with a strange smile.

    'I'm fine, you know.' He put on one of his super fake smiles that usually got him out of awkward situations. 'They made a mistake. I'm not supposed to be here.' He shrugged. 'Just an accident, is all.'

     She gave him a sad smile and pushed him gently into his room. "Do, or do not. There is no try." With that, she locked the door and left him.

     Alex was beyond himself in disbelief and anger. Over the course of three hours, he screamed, cried, flipped over the little dining table he received, screamed again, stomped around, tore some wallpaper that hung down from peeling, and threw a large temper tantrum into his plain pillow on his bed. He was going to break out of this place someday before they ruined him forever, he would make sure of it.

      And when he heard Crystal come in even through hia dreamless trancing sleep that night, he wondered if it was only a matter of time before she cracked under the pressure of dealing with the human disaster.

     


End file.
